The sun had begun to dip behind the Neem trees, casting soft shadows across the veranda. Aarav sat beside his father in silence, heart still hammering from the weight of their conversation. His father, who had been staring ahead thoughtfully for the past few minutes, finally spoke.
"I've always believed," he began slowly, "that life is a series of balances. Security and passion. Duty and desire. And sometimes, it's very hard to hold them both at once."
He looked at Aarav, not as a father issuing a command, but as a man speaking plainly to another. "You've proven to me that this isn't just a fantasy. That you've struggled, sacrificed, and most importantly, learned. That matters more than you think."
Aarav held his breath.
"But," his father continued, "I need one promise. Finish your degree. Write your final exams, no shortcuts, no breakdowns this time. Get that piece of paper. Once that's in your hands… then chase this dream. Wholeheartedly, if you must."
Aarav blinked. "You mean… you're okay with it?"
"I'm okay with you," his father said gently. "I'm okay with a dream that doesn't gamble everything. But no more hiding. No more burning yourself down to chase something in silence. You have your mother and me—we'll walk with you now. But finish what you started with your degree."
It was the approval Aarav had hoped for, but not without weight. He nodded, emotion caught in his throat. "Thank you, Appa. I promise."
Back in college the following week, Aarav felt a strange lightness as he walked past the familiar academic buildings. He wasn't sneaking out to practice anymore. He wasn't split in two. There was clarity now, and that clarity made everything feel simpler, steadier.
His days resumed a balanced rhythm—mornings with lectures, evenings at the nets, weekends spent reviewing notes and quietly preparing for finals. The fire to bowl, to compete, was alive again. But it no longer burned wildly. It moved with purpose.
Then, one afternoon in early April, an unexpected email popped into his inbox. It was from the HR department of the tech company that had extended him a job offer during campus placements.
Dear Aarav,
We regret to inform you that due to recent internal restructuring and budget revisions, onboarding for new hires from the 2026 batch may be delayed by several months. We will reach out with an updated timeline soon. Your offer remains valid.
We appreciate your patience and understanding.
Aarav stared at the screen. The words felt heavy in a different way.
He read the message twice, then leaned back, sighing. The job wasn't gone, but it wasn't immediate either. The safety net he had held onto, the structured path of job-security his parents had worked so hard for—it had just been shifted.
Not pulled away, but… loosened.
The timing couldn't have been more ironic. His father had just granted him permission—after his degree was done. And now, the job that was supposed to follow like clockwork… wouldn't.
But instead of panic, Aarav felt something else: opportunity.
He pulled out his notebook and flipped to the back page where he had jotted down a new training plan. Nothing extreme. Just enough to build rhythm again, to work on control, to test his body under careful observation.
He took a breath and smiled to himself.
Maybe the world wasn't telling him to wait.
Maybe it was giving him a window.